


A terrible Demon

by CarpeDiem



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Family, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25631140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeDiem/pseuds/CarpeDiem
Summary: Aziraphale is meeting with an old friend, the archangel Remiel. They do that every couple of centuries and Aziraphale usually takes her out for dinner. This time Aziraphale slips up and mentions spending time with Crowley lately. To show Remiel that Crowley is in fact a terrible demon and no threat at all, he invites Crowley over. Remiel however remembers Crowley under a very different name...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 163





	A terrible Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta ravensfordays!

“Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale turned around on the sidewalk when he heard someone calling his name in a sweet and melodic voice. When he saw the person standing a few feet behind him, his face lit up in a brilliant smile. Although person was not actually correct. The young woman with the striking green eyes and the light brown locks that fell down all the way to her waist was not human and therefore not a person. She was an angel. 

“Remiel,” Aziraphale answered delighted and crossed the small distance between them to pull the petite woman into a hug. He had to reach down quite a bit and she felt incredibly fragile in his arms, but he knew that this was just an illusion. She was a great deal more powerful than anyone else on this earth – including himself – because she was the archangel Remiel.

“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked once he had let go of her. 

Remiel laughed and shook he head with a fond expression. “It’s been 200 years already since I’ve last been on earth.”

“Has it really been that long?” Aziraphale wondered. He remembered her last visit like it had only been a week ago. It had been the late 18th century and they had met in Paris just shortly before the beginning of the French Revolution. They had strolled around the city and had spent the afternoon in a completely unassuming small café where Aziraphale had treated Remiel to the best crêpes in all of France. 

Aziraphale pressed his lips together and looked at Remiel apologetically. “I’m terribly sorry my dear, I had not noticed that it was already time for your next visit. Time does slip by awfully fast sometimes.”

Remiel just shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I remembered. Those visits to earth are my absolute highlights after all. It’s always so boring in heaven - nothing ever changes. But on earth the humans come up with so many new things each century and experiencing those things with you down here is so much better than just looking down from above. How do you like my outfit by the way?” 

Remiel took a step backwards and put her hands on her hips before looking expectantly at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale took a moment to really look at her. She was wearing high waist jeans with a blue and pink floral design that was currently considered very fashionable. A loose fitting light blue blouse was tucked inside the jeans and a London brown belt completed the outfit.

“Very nice and very stylish my dear,” Aziraphale said. “I have to compliment your excellent taste.”

Remiel grinned broadly and Aziraphale could see that she was very pleased with having once again chosen an outfit that met the current fashion style and flattered her corporal form. 

“So what are we going to do this time?” she asked excitedly after a moment, but then she frowned. “Unless you already have something important to do today. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense my dear! Of course I have time for you,” Aziraphale assured her. “I don’t have plans for today and even if I had, I would certainly make time for you.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Remiel answered and she took a quick step forward to kiss Aziraphale on the cheek.

Aziraphale beamed at her and he was looking forward to spending the day in her company. He and Remiel had been friends for as long as he could remember and considering that he was over 6000 years old, that was quite a long time. Archangels normally tended to keep to themselves, but Remiel had always been different. She was a breeze of fresh wind, carefree and vibrant and she had never cared much for the hierarchy in heaven. The best proof for that was her friendship with Aziraphale.

“So which earthly culinary delight do you want to introduce me to this time?” Remiel asked and Aziraphale took a moment to consider the vast possibilities London had to offer.

“How about sushi?” he proposed. “It’s from Japan and consists of rice with different kinds of raw fish and edible seaweed called nori sheets.”

“Sure, sounds delicious.”

Remiel was always happy to try every food earth had to offer and so far she had loved everything Aziraphale had ordered for her, except for the oysters. That had been 2000 years ago though and since then Aziraphale had always chosen well, so Remiel had regained her trust in him by now.

Aziraphale smiled broadly and offered Remiel his arm, always the gentleman, even if it was a bit outdated by now. Remiel wasn’t aware of that though and took his arm, but she wouldn’t have cared either way and considering that she looked like a woman in her mid-twenties, people probably assumed she was Aziraphale’s daughter.

Aziraphale led her towards the street and hailed a cab for them, using a minor miracle to ensure one would pull over immediately.

***

“This is delicious,” Remiel said after she had savoured the taste of another sake nigiri with a dreamy look on her face.

Aziraphale smiled, happy that she liked it, although she still had a bit of trouble with the chopsticks.

They were at his favourite Japanese restaurant in London that served the best sushi outside of Japan. It was not one of these futuristic and elegant it-places where the food was no doubt good, but hopelessly overpriced and as far from authentic as that horrible Jackson fellows nose. Some things just didn’t get better with trying to improve what had been created by the Almighty to be perfect in the first place. Instead the restaurant was pretty small, located on a side street near St. Paul’s Cathedral and totally unassuming from the outside. Just like any restaurant that served truly excellent food as Aziraphale had figured out over the millennia with only a few exceptions.

“I think I like those ones best. This orange coloured fish is so creamy and I’m not really sure about the green wrapping around the smaller pieces yet.”

“The orange ones are called sake nigiri,” Aziraphale replied politely. “The green wrapping is the seaweed I told you about and the pieces it’s wrapped around are called maki.”

Remiel looked at him with amusement and she had probably already forgotten the names. “Whatever you say,” she humoured him. “It’s delicious no matter what it is called.”

Aziraphale didn’t mind that Remiel didn’t particularly care about the names of the dishes. It’s not like she would find herself ordering sushi on her own after all. What mattered to Aziraphale was that she enjoyed her time on earth and the wonders of human food that Aziraphale introduced her to.

“So what have you been up to lately?” Remiel asked while trying to pick up another slice of sake nigiri with her chopsticks. “Any interesting miracles worth telling about?”

“Doing the will of the Almighty on earth is always interesting, my dear. But without wanting to boast, I have indeed done a few especially rewarding miracles as of late,” Aziraphale said, feeling very pleased with himself. “Just yesterday evening, after a stroll through St. James’s Park on the way back to my bookshop, I made sure the owner of a small florist shop suddenly remembered that she had left her keys in the lock of the door after closing up for the day and when she had went to collect them, she had seen the man outside the door, who had wanted to buy a particular kind of flower for his wife’s birthday, but had been caught up by an important and rather stressful meeting at work and therefore had arrived at the shop just a few minutes too late. He had such a desperate expression on his face that the florist had opened the door again and she had sold him the flowers and for a special discount at that, because it was the last batch, even though she had been sure that there hadn’t been any white roses left in the first place.”

Aziraphale beamed at Remiel and she shook her head with a fond smile on her lips. “That’s great Aziraphale but I was thinking of something more… well just more significance on a greater scale.” 

Remiel shrugged and Aziraphale pursed his lips after taking a sip of his jasmine tea. “The little things are just as important as something that has the potential to change the course of human history. Crowley gave me the exact same look you just displayed, when we continued our way to the bookshop for a nightcap.”

Remiel’s eyebrows rose. “The demon Crowley? Your adversary from hell here on earth? Why would you invite him to your bookshop?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again, when he didn’t quite know what to say. 

He and Crowley had spent a lot of time together during the last fifty years - more so than throughout the whole of history. It hadn’t been unusual that they hadn’t seen each other for a few hundred years at a time and Crowley had slept through the entire 19th century, but with both of them staying in London permanently, they had somehow gravitated towards each other and Aziraphale truly enjoyed Crowley’s company. He had become so used to their weekly dinners and even more frequent strolls through the park to feed the ducks, that he had slipped up. He had mentioned Crowley to Remiel a couple of times throughout the years of course, but telling her about the things the demon had been up to was something entirely different than frequently interacting with Crowley on a friendly basis.

Remiel’s eyebrows rose even higher and Aziraphale knew that he needed to come up with an answer as soon as possible, before she jumped to conclusions. 

“Well it’s a useful thing to spent time with your enemy in order to better understand him, learn his weaknesses and subsequently be able to improve thwarting his evil plans. There is even a saying for that here on earth: keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

Remiel had regarded Aziraphale with a sceptical expression during his stuttering explanation, but now her expression turned to one of pity and she sighed. Aziraphale knew that she could see right through him and through the lie he had just told her.

“Aziraphale,” she began softly. “He’s a demon, a creature from Hell, evil and rotten to his very core. He’s probably just trying to lull you into some sense of familiarity so that you don’t realise what twisted plans he is executing right under your nose.”

Aziraphale started to shake his head adamantly without really thinking about it. Yes, demons were evil creatures trying to destroy everything the Almighty had created and leaving a path of suffering and misery in their wake. But Crowley was different and he had always been that way since the day in the Garden. Of course he had performed his fair share of temptations, but he never really harmed anyone and he truly cared about earth and the humans. On top of that he had performed more than one miracle in Aziraphale’s place due to their Arrangement. A downright evil creature would never have agreed to such a thing in the first place, Aziraphale was certain of that.

“Crowley is not like that, Remiel. You don’t know him like I do. We’ve been on earth together for 6000 years and he even saved me from being inconveniently discorporated a couple of times.”

Remiel shook her head, still with that look of sadness in her green eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything, Aziraphale. He’s still a demon. He must have had some ulterior motive for saving you. It must have aided his evil plans in some way or another without you even realising it. Demons are masterful in manipulating others in order to do Hell’s bidding. And Crowley in particular. He was the one responsible for the Spanish Inquisition. Everyone in Heaven knows that. He even got a recommendation from Hell for it.”

Aziraphale would be lying if he said that he hadn’t started to question Crowley at all during Remiel’s speech, because a tiny little bit of doubt had been growing inside of him, but when Remiel had mentioned the Spanish Inquisition and Crowley’s investment in this whole dreadful thing, Aziraphale had known that Remiel was wrong in her assessment of Crowley.

“My dear, I can assure you Crowley had nothing to do with the Spanish Inquisition whatsoever. The humans had come up with that all on their own.”

“If that’s what he told you,” Remiel answered unimpressed, “then he has been lying to you. He’s a demon, that’s what demons do.”

Aziraphale firmly shook his head, determined to convince Remiel that she was wrong about Crowley. 

“No, I’m telling you that you’re wrong, because Crowley didn’t simply tell me that he wasn’t responsible for the Spanish Inquisition. I found him in a bar in Spain purely by chance just after he had gotten the recommendation for starting the Spanish Inquisition,” Aziraphale said and a deep sorrow rose inside of him when he remembered that day. “He had been drinking for hours and even though he tried to hide behind his sunglasses, I could see that his eyes had been red from crying. He had been utterly devastated and so very broken that I could feel it radiating off of him in thick waves. He said that he didn’t have anything to do with it and that he hadn’t even known what the Spanish Inquisition was until he had gotten the recommendation for allegedly starting it. Please my dear, tell me why he would have been crying while drinking himself into a stupor even though he couldn’t possibly have known that I would happen to stumble across him in that bar.”

Remiel tilted her head to one side and hesitated, before finally answering, her expression unsure. “But he’s a demon.”

“Well yes, but he was an angel once before he fell from grace and he has never been like any other demon I’ve ever encountered,” Aziraphale replied and a small smile appeared on his lips when an idea came to his mind. “Maybe he’s just a terrible demon.”

Remiel put down her chopsticks and shook her head. “I don’t know Aziraphale. Even though you want to believe it, I’m not sure something like that is even possible.”

“But I do, Remiel. And please believe me, when I tell you that Crowley is not an evil creature just because he’s a demon. Maybe you should meet him and see for yourself. You always had the most remarkable gift of seeing a being’s true core.”

The more Aziraphale thought about it, the more he had to compliment himself for this idea. It was the perfect solution to show Remiel that Crowley really was not the way she thought.

Remiel scowled. “I’m not sure the others would like that very much.”

Aziraphale didn’t have to ask whom she meant with the others. He knew that she was talking about the other archangels, Gabriel and Michael in particular. With Remiel being the youngest of them, they had always treated her like the obnoxious little sister, but while they didn’t trust her with important tasks, they were very protective of her nonetheless. And meeting a demon was definitely something they would not like very much. But just like Crowley wasn’t a typical demon, Remiel wasn’t a typical archangel.

“And since when have you ever cared for what they wanted you to do?” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and looked at Remiel with a knowing smile.

Remiel huffed a small laugh and shook her head in fond disbelieve.

Aziraphale grinned. “So it’s settled then. You will meet Crowley and form your own opinion,” he said full well knowing that he had won and Remiel would agree and just like he had anticipated Remiel nodded.

“Alright, I will. But if he tries any funny business, I will smite him.” 

Aziraphale beamed. “Splendid. Once we are back at the bookshop, I will phone him and invite him to come over for a cup of tea or a glass of wine. And then you can see for yourself that he really is a terrible demon.”

***

Crowley hit the brakes and the Bentley came to a stop just in front of Aziraphale’s shop. There was a sign proclaiming that parking in this particular spot was forbidden under threat of towing the vehicle and the yellow lines on the street in that area should be a dead giveaway that yes, this was the sport the sign was referring to. But when the Bentley stopped there, the arrow on the sign, showing the direction of the no-parking area, miraculously changed direction and the lines on the street just vanished.

Crowley got out of his car and the radio stopped playing ‘I’m in love with my car’ once the driver’s door was opened. I was nearly dark outside and once again Crowley pondered the telephone call he had received from Aziraphale earlier. Crowley had just been watering his plants and installing the fear of Crowley in them, like he did every other day, when the phone had rung and Aziraphale had asked him to come to the bookshop for a glass of wine or a cup of tea, whichever he preferred, because he wanted Crowley to meet an old friend of him. 

Crowley gritted his teeth once again, while crossing the sidewalk. As far as he knew Aziraphale didn’t have any friends except him and that was just the way Crowley liked it. None of those human acquaintances Aziraphale had had over the years could ever fully understand or appreciate him. How could they. Their small brains would explode trying to grasp the concept of an angel. But Aziraphale had asked Crowley to come over and Crowley rarely could deny his angel anything, so here he was. 

The lock on the door of the bookshop clicked when Crowley touched it and he pushed it open with a little more force than strictly necessary. The small bell above the door jingled, when Crowley entered. The shop was dark except for the dim light coming from the corner that held Aziraphale’s office space and the couch that Aziraphale and Crowley had spent many evenings sitting on drinking. A moment later Crowley heard muffled laughter from two different voices. One voice belonged to Aziraphale but the other sounded like a woman and Crowley frowned. Most of the humans Aziraphale hat interacted with in the past had been male and Crowley couldn’t remember a single one of them that Aziraphale had invited to his bookshop. This woman seemed to be someone special though, with her being an old friend on top of that and Crowley instantly hated her, because Aziraphale had kept her a secret from him.

Crowley walked through the main room of the book shop and then casually strolled around the book shelfs to the place where Aziraphale and his companion where sitting. 

“Alright then, here I am. Who did you want me to…” Crowley started to say, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the young woman sitting on the couch right in front of him. Across from her and with his back half turned to Crowley, Aziraphale was seated in his armchair in front of his desk.

It took a moment for the woman to turn her head and look at Crowley, but when she saw him, she stared at him with the same bewildered expression on her face that Crowley knew he was displaying himself.

“Remiel,” Crowley said deadpan, before he could stop himself. 

Remiel looked just like he remembered her, the same long brown curls, green eyes and the slender appearance. The look in her eyes told him that she had recognised him as well. So little celestial beings still knew his face, but the archangels would always recognise him.

Remiel stood up with a sudden movement. “How are you…” she said and shook her head in disbelieve. “I don’t understand, what are you wearing?”

Crowley didn’t answer and he noticed Aziraphale turning around and looking from Remiel to Crowley and then back at Remiel again.

“Remiel, my dear, are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, but when he didn’t receive and answer, he focused on Crowley instead. “Crowley?”

That got a reaction from Remiel and she gasped, her eyes widening as she stared first at Aziraphale and then at Crowley in utter disbelieve. 

Crowley didn’t say anything this time either. He couldn’t, and Remiel turned back to Aziraphale. 

“This is Crowley?” she asked and Aziraphale nodded, not at all comprehending why Remiel made such a fuss about this. And how could he, he had only ever known Crowley.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “What is going on here?”

Remiel looked to Crowley once more. “He doesn’t know,” she stated. 

Crowley shook his head. “No, he doesn’t. I never told him, because it wasn’t important. But go ahead, tell him. He’s not going to rest until he knows what’s got you so upset upon seeing me.”

Remiel looked at him for another long moment, before she turned towards a very confused Aziraphale, who was slowly starting to get upset due to not getting an answer.

“He is…” Remiel began, but stopped and started anew. “When he was still an angel, his name had been Raphael.”

Crowley flinched when he heard the name, that had once been his, but he forced himself to look at Aziraphale in order to see how he would take the news that the demon he knew as Crowley, the Serpent of Eden, had once been the archangel Raphael before his Fall from Heaven.

Aziraphale’s brows furrowed, while he tried to come to terms with what he had just heard and his first reaction was incredulity. He looked at Crowley for confirmation and Crowley took a deep breath. 

“It’s true,” Crowley said and Aziraphale’s mouth fell open.

A second later a pained expression filled Aziraphale’s eyes and he shook his head ever so slowly. “Why did you never tell me?”

Crowley shrugged. “As I said, it’s not important. It was long ago that I had been an archangel. I may have been Raphael once, but that’s not who I am anymore.”

But even though it hurt to say his former name out loud. Like a million little pinpricks that reminded him of what he had lost.

“But you were an archangel,” Aziraphale said completely in awe. 

Crowley growled and took off his sunglasses in one swift motion so that Aziraphale could see his slitted yellow eyes. “And now I’m a demon. And that’s everything I’ll ever be.” 

Crowley heard the bitterness in his voice and he hated himself for his weakness. To Crowley’s surprise the look in Aziraphale’s eyes turned soft and he smiled fondly. 

“Oh my dear, but you are a terrible demon, has that really escaped your notice for all those millennia?”

Crowley frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked and he couldn’t stop himself from sounding a little miffed at being called terrible at something.

Aziraphale’s smile became broader. “Darling, you’ve been doing what Hell wanted you to do, but you always lacked a certain malice. The only one that has ever been truly terrified of you are your poor houseplants, because they don’t know that instead of destroying the plants that don’t grow well enough for your exceeding tastes, you give them to the nice old Lady living in the flat one floor below your apartment.”

Crowley pouted, because Aziraphale had discovered his secret and he made a mental note not to invite Aziraphale into his apartment ever again, so he couldn’t tatter to his plants. Crowley would never get them back under control otherwise.

“You are terrorizing your houseplants?” Remiel asked baffled. 

Crowley just shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby,” he answered and Remiel started laughing, high and clear like a delicate bell.

Crowley ached with the feeling of how much he had missed her. He had never gotten along with the others very well and Gabriel had always been the most pompous git of all of them, but Remiel was joyous and delightful and Crowley had always loved his little sister fiercely. He felt his eyes beginning to tear up and he quickly tried blinking the tears away, while trying to put his sunglasses back on. Before he could manage that however, Remiel shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes as well and then she crossed the distances between them and pulled Crowley into a tight hug.

***

A little while later the three of them were sitting in the corner of Aziraphales bookshop, Remiel still on the couch, Aziraphale in his desk’s armchair and Crowley in another armchair, that Aziraphale had brought over from the small table in the back. Each of them had a delicate cup of steaming hot tea in their hands, because that’s what you do when facing a situation that you have no idea how to deal with and even though they were angels – or at least had been angles in Crowley’s case – they were living in England after all. None of them had been drinking the tea so far, but that wasn’t the point.

When Remiel had let go of Crowley after what had felt like an eternity, no one had seemed to know quite what to say, so Aziraphale had stated that he would go and make tea. It had given him something to do and he had been in desperate need of something to do in order to keep his mind from moving so fast it had threatened to make him dizzy. The time it had taken to make the tea had given each of them the opportunity to wrap their head around what they had just discovered.

Now Aziraphale kept shooting glances at Crowley without being too obvious, but even if Crowley noticed, he didn’t react to it. He was slouching in his armchair as usual, but even though Aziraphale had known the demon for 6000 years and had of course always known that he had been an angel once, the revelation that Crowley had been the archangel Raphael made Aziraphale view him differently all of a sudden. Crowley was hiding his eyes behind his sunglasses once again and the rest of his face betrayed nothing, so Aziraphale had no idea what Crowley was thinking. 

Finally, Remiel was the first of them to say something, still deep in thoughts and slowly shaking her head. “I still can’t believe they have never told me.”

“I guess they didn’t want anyone finding out that during the Rebellion not only one but two archangels had fallen,” Aziraphale assumed.

After Samael had started the Rebellion, there had been utter chaos in Heaven. When the Morningstar had fallen and so many others with him, it had rattled the very foundation of Heaven and everything they had ever believed in. 

“You have to blame Michael for not telling you. She is the only one who knows. The rest of the archangels have no clue either,” Crowley answered Remiel’s question after a moment, his voice devoid of emotion. “Aziraphale is right, losing one archangel was bad enough.”

Aziraphale noticed the way Crowley spoke about the other archangels, like he wasn’t one of them and never had been. It was probably easier for him thinking that way. Being cast out and losing everything including his name must have been horrible and Aziraphale shuddered at the mere thought of it. However, Crowley had once said that it hadn’t really been like falling, but more like vaguely sauntering downward and he had even kept his wings, something Aziraphale had never really thought about until now.

“How did you…” Aziraphale stopped and cleared his throat, but he couldn’t say it out loud.

A bitter smile appeared on Crowley’s lips. “I asked the wrong questions. And gave Samael ideas that began to fester inside of him until he turned on the Almighty. I never meant for something like that to happen, but when he fell, I guess I was pulled down with him, because all of it had been my fault to begin with.”

Crowley’s voice had been steady and Aziraphale guessed it made sense, since he had had 6000 years to come to terms with all of it.

“You got to keep your wings though,” Aziraphale said, but Crowley huffed.

“Yeah, the blackened version of them.”

“Maybe that’s a sign, maybe you didn’t completely fall,” Remiel tried hopefully, but Crowley vehemently shook his head, before she had even finished speaking. 

“No, I did fall,” he said harshly and pulled off his sunglasses once more. “And I have lived as a demon for 6000 years. Letting me keep my wings wasn’t more than a cruel joke, because being the only demon who got to keep them, I had to hide them so that no one would notice that I am different. Lucifer knows that I still have them, but I guess he succumbed to madness so completely that he forgot ages ago who I had once been.”

Remiel smiled sadly. “I always thought you were just busy elsewhere. Creating new stars and new worlds in some distant galaxy. I imagined joining you, escaping the boredom of Heaven and seeing the wonders of the universe.”

“I would have liked that,” Crowley answered and they shared a small smile full of painful regret. “But earth has its fair share of wonders as well. It’s a beautiful place and the humans are unimaginably creative and ingenious.” His eyes darkened. “And sometimes they can be unbelievably cruel as well, but I guess that’s the price you have to pay for free will.”

For a moment there was silence in the bookshop and Aziraphale guessed Crowley had been referring to the Spanish Inquisition among other things. The whole of human history was pervaded with unspeakable cruelties, but there were always exceptions, exceptional people that were good and decent and pushed humanity back onto the right path eventually.

“I want you to show me,” Remiel said and Aziraphale looked at her just as puzzled as Crowley did.

“What do you mean?” Crowley wanted to know.

“I want you to show me the wonders of earth just like Aziraphale has been showing me the fantastic food creations the humans have come up with. And in order for you to do that, I will stay here on earth for the foreseeable future.”

Crowley stared at her and Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “But you can’t,” he said flabbergasted. “The other archangels will miss you.”

Remiel rolled her eyes. “No they won’t. They don’t care what I do most of the time. I’m just the obnoxious little sister. They are happy if I’m not standing in the way.”

“But eventually someone is going to notice that you are missing,” Aziraphale pointed out, but Remiel just shrugged.

“Probably, but that’s going to take a while and until then, I’m going to stay here with the both of you.”

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look and Aziraphale could see that Crowley was thinking of a reason to tell Remiel that she couldn’t stay with them on earth, but apparently he couldn’t come up with something that would be able to deter her.

“But where are you going to stay? I just have the bookshop,” Aziraphale said at least, when it became clear that Remiel had made up her mind. 

“Then I’m going to stay with you,” Remiel decided, looking at Crowley. “Or do you just have a tiny shop as well?”

“Well no,” Crowley answered reluctantly, but before he could say anything else, Remiel nodded and smiled brightly.

“Perfect, then that’s decided. I’m going to stay with you and don’t worry about Below, I know how to mask my appearance here on earth. And if Above has a problem with this, they should better mind their own business and not risk angering an archangel, a former archangel turned demon and a principality.”

Crowley seamed to ponder this for a moment, but even Aziraphale had to agree that Remiel had a point. And it was not like there was a law forbidding angels from coming to earth or staying there for a little while. At least no one tended to frown upon that, when the angel in question didn’t shrink his duties in the process and Remiel didn’t really have any assigned duties in Heaven as far as Aziraphale knew. Apparently he and Crowley would have to miracle a free table at the Ritz for three people instead of two from now on to include Remiel and Aziraphale found he didn’t mind that, not even one bit. 

***

Four weeks passed and during that time Aziraphale and Crowley showed Remiel around London. She took to human life like a fish to water and her way of masquerading her celestial aura was perfect as far as Aziraphale could tell. 

Crowley complained constantly that Remiel left her clothes strewn all over his apartment and that she was way too nice to his plants, causing them to become soft and pampered and ultimately not taking Crowley’s threats seriously anymore. But despite all the complaining Crowley did, Aziraphale could see a small smile on Crowley’s lips whenever he looked at Remiel and Remiel’s fond expression in return told Aziraphale that Crowley didn’t manage to fool her either.

They introduced Remiel to all kinds of foods from around the world and took long strolls through the park to feed the ducks nearly every day. Remiel hadn’t entirely grasped the concept of feeding the ducks yet, despite Crowley and Aziraphale explaining in to her multiple times, but she went along with the regular ritual nevertheless. Apart from that Remiel got pretty good at spotting foreign spies that tried to pass of as unassuming bankers after just one week and she loved to try different sorts of ice cream every time the trio passed the small ice cream cart on their way home.

During these four weeks Aziraphale had had time to wrap his head around the fact that Crowley had been the archangel Raphael before he had fallen. To say that Aziraphale had been surprised by that revelation was a huge understatement, like saying that Noah’s ark had been but a nutshell. Crowley having been an archangel explained a lot the longer Aziraphale had time to think about it though. He had always been convinced that Crowley was a terrible demon. Crowley didn’t really like harming people and he lacked the overall maliciousness that should have been part of his very being. Maybe all archangels would make horrible demons - except when they went batshit insane and became the ruler of Hell upon turning their back on the Almighty – or maybe it was just Crowley. Aziraphale liked to think that it was the latter. 

Knowing that Crowley had once been Raphael didn’t really change anything between Aziraphale and Crowley though. It was clear from Remiel’s behaviour that she saw her brother Raphael every time she looked at Crowley, even though Crowley had strictly forbidden her from calling him by his old name. Aziraphale had never met Raphael back then and therefore the recent revelation only showed Aziraphale a new part of the puzzling but also fascinating bundle of opposites that was the demon Crowley.

On a particularly lazy and dreadfully rainy Sunday afternoon Remiel, Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting in Aziraphale’s cosy office corner of the bookshop, enjoying a bottle of 1921 Chateauneuf du Pape. Just like Crowley and Aziraphale, Remiel had taken a liking to red wine over white wine and Aziraphale took that as a reason to dig out a few of the best bottles that he had saved since the invention of the glass bottle. 

Crowley was just telling Remiel, who was sitting next to him on the couch, of some of the more creative ways Aziraphale came up with to ensure that potential customers that entered the bookshop stayed potential customers and didn’t dare buying one of Azirapale’s precious books – apart from just keeping the shop closed for days on end or just opening randomly at varying hours – when Remiel stopped listening all of a sudden and stared straight ahead past the armchair Aziraphale was sitting in to an empty spot left of him.

Aziraphale felt the divine presence at the same time that Remiel did, but he had to turn his head left first and by the time he had done that, the spot Remiel was focusing on was no longer empty. A woman in a light grey suit with a double breasted jacket and a white blouse with absurd frills on the wrists and collar was standing there, tall and upright, hands clasped behind her back and her dark brown hair done up in an orderly curled bun atop of her head. Aziraphale recognized the archangel Michael at once and his eyes widened at her sudden appearance. 

“Michael,” Remiel said, her voice cordial and she didn’t sound surprised at all to see Michael appearing in Aziraphale’s bookshop all of a sudden. 

Michael looked at Remiel with a thin-lipped expression. “Remiel, what are you still doing here on earth?” she asked clearly disapproving.

“I’m taking a vacation,” Remiel answered with a way too cheerful smile. “And I’m spending time with my brother Raphael, who is known as the demon Crowley these days. Imagine my surprise learning that when Aziraphale introduced me to his adversary here on earth.”

Michael’s expression remained stoically for several long seconds, before she sighed, tilted her head in exasperation and then abandoned her straight posture all together. She took two steps forward and miracle over one of the armchairs from the table next to Aziraphale, before sitting down and crossing her legs. Then she looked at Crowley and a small but sad smile appeared on her lips.

“Hello Crowley. It’s been a long time.”

Crowley didn’t answer. He just looked at Michael, with a guarded and cautious expression that was apparent even behind his sunglasses. 

Michael sighed again and shook her head. “I’m not here to harm either one of you. I’m just here to talk.”

To Aziraphale’s surprise a filled wineglass appeared in Michael’s right hand and the bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape on the small table next to Crowley was suddenly a bit emptier than a moment prior. Michael took a sip of the red liquid, not showing whether she liked the taste or not and then looked at Remiel once more.

“You have to come back to Heaven. The others have started noticing your absence.”

Remiel crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I find that hard to believe. No one really takes much notice of me except telling me that I’m getting in the way.”

“Exactly,” Michael replied. “Gabriel and Uriel have started realising that you haven’t been getting in the way lately.”

Remiel didn’t react to that quip, instead she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Why did you never tell me?”

It was clear that Remiel meant the fact that Raphael had fallen and became the demon Crowley. Michael sighed deeply. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “Metatron forbade telling anyone. There would have been even more chaos if the fall of not only one but two archangels would have become common knowledge.”

Remiel seemed to be appeased by that answer and her expression mellowed. They had already suspected something like this and Metatron himself forbidding Michael from telling anyone had left her no choice but to obey. 

There was silence between them for a moment, until Aziraphale saw Crowley taking a long sip from his wineglass, before extending one arms over the back of the couch and uncrossing his legs to achieve an even more casual slouch. 

“Well, after we have cleared that little mystery, maybe you can answer me something else, whilst you are here,” he addressed Michael. “Why did I get to keep my wings?” 

Michael just shrugged. “I don’t know. That is something you have to ask the Almighty herself.”

Crowley huffed and took off his sunglasses to look at Michael with his yellow snake eyes. If he had anticipated Michael to flinch at that sight, he was disappointed.

“I’m a demon now,” Crowley said, a hard edge in his voice. “She doesn’t care about me any longer and despite that, the Almighty hasn’t answered to anyone’s questions in a very long time.”

Michael pursed her lips. “Perhaps not, but there certainly is a very good reason for that.”

“Oh don’t start with the ineffable plan, I get enough of that from Aziraphale already,” Crowley replied. “You can’t just contribute everything you don’t have an answer for to the great ineffable plan. That’s blind ignorance.”

“No, it’s called faith”, Michael answered.

Crowley laughed humourlessly and made a gesture with his hands. “Well then, I guess that’s the reason I’m not an angel anymore.”

Aziraphale thought that Crowley was right about that assumption, but even though Aziraphale was the one always reminding Crowley that everything happening was part of the Almighty’s ineffable plan, he had caught himself wonder throughout the course of human history a few times as well. The great flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, the Crusades, the plague and then the first and second World War had been thought-provoking impulses. Aziraphale had never lost his faith that there was indeed an ineffable plan at work though and that was the difference between him and Crowley. Aziraphale still believed, not blindly he would say, but ultimately without condition. Crowley had lost his faith at one point and for everyone else that would have meant falling, but Crowley was the exception to that rule and his wings, even though black now, proofed that.

Michael calmly took another sip from her wine. She didn’t look spiteful or haughty, but merely accepting that Crowley had chosen a different path a long time ago. After savouring the wine for a moment, she tilted the glass in her hand from one side to the other, and looked at Aziraphale, whom she had not prior acknowledging. 

“I’m beginning to understand your appreciation for human food and beverages.”

Aziraphale smiled hesitantly. “This is a rather excellent vintage, I might add.”

Michael made a small contemplating sound, while looking at the contents of her glass for another long second. Then the glass vanished from her fingers and after standing up the armchair she had been sitting on disappeared as well. “As nice as this is, I have other matters to attend to. Remiel, are you coming?” 

Remiel didn’t move though, her arm still crossed in front of her chest. 

Michael regarded her with an irritated expression. “You do realise that you can’t stay on earth indefinitely.” 

The look in Remiel’s eyes said that this would remain to be seen and the archangel Michael actually rolled her eyes. Then she sighed. 

“No one is preventing you from visiting earth whenever you want and I’m sure none of the other are going to notice should those visits in the future be more frequent than every couple of centuries.”

Remiel thought about that for a moment and finally nodded before standing up. “Alright, I’m coming with you. But you can wait until I have said goodbye to Aziraphale and Crowley.”

She looked at Michael with a petulant expression on her face, before turning to Aziraphale and enveloping him in a tight hug, after he had risen from his armchair as well. 

Aziraphale smiled at her warmly once Remiel had let go of him again. “It was wonderful having you here, my dear.”

“Thank you,” Remiel answered. “I promise to come back soon.”

Then she turned to Crowley and looked at him expectantly. After a moment Crowley sighed dramatically, put his wineglass on the table next to the couch and stood up. Remiel beamed and hugged him as well. Crowley returned the hug nevertheless and Aziraphale could see the small smile on his lips.

“Take care of yourself up there. Those angels are not to be trusted, take that from someone who knows,” he said playfully.

Remiel laughed. “I will remember that. I promise. And you take care down here as well. And try to be a bit nicer to your houseplants, they are trying their best.”

Crowley scowled half-heartedly and made a dismissive gesture. “Ah they can take it.”

Remiel just smiled again, before taking her place next to Michael who had waited patiently while Remiel had made her goodbyes. A moment later, they were gone.

Aziraphale kept looking at the now empty spot for a moment, before turning to Crowley. The demon was also staring at the spot Remiel and Michael had been standing a second prior and he appeared to be in deep thought, his lips a thin line. Picking up feelings from a demon was mostly impossible, but right now with his guard apparently down, Aziraphale sensed a deep longing as well as a feeling of determined resignation at the same time. Aziraphale’s heart ached for his friend and he couldn’t possible imagine what it must be like to be cut off from the Almighty’s love and all his brothers and sisters. Through his actions Crowley had chosen this and even though it hurt, he was still standing by that decision. That didn’t mean he was alone though, Remiel would come back as soon as she could and Aziraphale would always be Crowley’s friend. Crowley just needed a small reminder of that right now.

Aziraphale clapped his hands once to pull Crowley out of his thoughts and when Crowley looked at him, Aziraphale put on a brilliant smile. 

“Alright then, what do you say to a nice stroll around the city? Covent Garden perhaps? Being cooped up inside all day really is no way to spent such a lovely Sunday as this one. And I would very much enjoy your company, my friend.”

Crowley looked at him waveringly, but just for a split second, then an honest smile appeared on his lips. “Right, stroll through the city. Why not.”

Aziraphale’s own smile widened and he nodded, before going to the coat stand and exchanging his cardigan for his beige long coat. 

“Let’s go then,” he announced once finished and Crowley followed him though the bookshop and to the door. “After you my dear,” Aziraphale said, holding the door open. 

Crowley walked past him and the two of them exited the bookshop. 

The rain that had been purring down all day had stopped miraculously and the dark clouds in the sky had parted to let bright rays of sunlight pass through as the demon and the angel stepped onto the pavement and started wandering east towards Covent Garden side by side.

End


End file.
